Chapter 244: Final Stop

After what seemed like an endless stretch of grogginess and sleep, the long dream finally reached its end.

Tong Shan’s eyelids fluttered, and finally he opened his eyes. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window as the outpost bustled with voices.

“Oh, look who’s awake! No-Fun’s finally up?” A face covered in scars and still wrapped in bandages poked into view. Ji Liu grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “You’ve actually been unconscious for twenty years. You’re twenty years older now. Isn’t that right, Ji Xue?”

“Yep, yep, absolutely!” Ji Xue, sitting in a wheelchair, nodded furiously with a delighted grin. “The doctor said your certain organ was too badly damaged to save, so they had to cut it off. Shan, you’re a beautiful girl now!”

Tong Shan spoke weakly, his voice barely audible. “You...”

“Hm?” Ji Liu froze. He waved for Ji Xue to go get the doctor, then leaned closer. “What is it? Do you feel uncomfortable somewhere?”

Tong Shan rasped weakly, “You... are sitting on my oxygen... tube...”

Ji Liu looked down in horror, only to find absolutely nothing beneath him. He turned back toward Tong Shan and finally noticed the sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Ji Liu could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing. He bent down and hugged him tightly. “Welcome back, Shan!”

The commotion continued for a little while. After his colleagues finished visiting and the doctors completed their examinations, Tong Shan finally had a chance to relax.

Eventually, someone knocked at his door.

“Sorry. I was in a meeting just now, so I got here a little late.” Lü Yingyue waved the flowers she had just swiped from the meeting room, casually dropped them into a vase, and sat down. “I didn’t expect you to wake up after only two days. How are you feeling?”

“A little weak. I can’t really exert any strength.”

“Your matrix was damaged, and you suffered aberration contamination. That’s normal.” Lü Yingyue sighed. “If Madam Lou hadn’t arrived in time, you probably would’ve died. You really should’ve heard her tearing into Tong Ting back then. Your uncle’s face practically turned green, and he couldn’t even talk back. Hahaha, that was the first time I’ve ever seen him look so miserable.”

Tong Shan managed a faint smile, but he still couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How is Spring City?”

“It’s peaceful again. You could say Mr. Tao’s lifelong wish has finally been fulfilled. Over the past few days, most of the traces of corruption have disappeared. I heard scavengers have started showing up around the outskirts. The bolder ones are already thinking about climbing over the quarantine fence to make a quick fortune. Once the Security Bureau withdraws its sentries, I imagine it won’t be long before many of the survivors who fled Spring City all those years ago begin moving back.

“Hometown associations across Haizhou have already started mobilizing people and seeking support. It’s just that there are still some remnants of corruption, and what happened back then is still too fresh in everyone’s minds, so there hasn’t been much progress yet. Give it another ten or twenty years, once people have begun to forget the past, and new settlements will probably appear. Another few decades after that, and perhaps some of its former prosperity will return.”

Lü Yingyue paused, then let out a wistful sigh. “Though by then, it might not be called Spring City anymore.”

“But what about... everything that happened in the past?” Tong Shan asked softly. “What about Mr. Tao’s sacrifice? Will people forget that too?”

Lü Yingyue patted him on the shoulder. “Mr. Tao wouldn’t care. There’s too much suffering in the mortal world. That’s why people have to learn how to forget. Otherwise, if they’re crushed beneath the weight of the past, they’ll never be able to move forward.”

Tong Shan was silent for a long time.

“So much of this could have been avoided,” he said. “If... if the Federation had acted sooner... No, if Central City had acted sooner... If they could command the Celestial Overseer, why couldn’t they make the decision earlier?”

“The decision?” Lü Yingyue couldn’t help shaking her head. “Sometimes, all it takes is one person with the nerve to make a hard choice. But sometimes, making a decision requires everyone to stand together as one.

“Besides...” She paused, no longer able to suppress the contempt and mockery in her voice. “If those old men could truly command the Celestial Overseer, would the Federation have ended up this divided in the first place?”

The Federation had stood for four hundred years. Through all the upheavals of those centuries, its splendor and prosperity seemed greater than ever, yet the divisions and instability within it had never ceased. There had been one reshuffling after another, one struggle after another. Presidents came and went, while faction after faction elbowed its way to the top.

By now, the Federation had long since become unrecognizable. For more than a century, no one had received the recognition of the Federation’s true supreme authority, the Celestial Overseer. Unless someone could unite the people as one, bring together the provinces of the Northern Continent, and restore order to the Federation, they were destined never to receive a response from the Celestial Overseer.

Without the Celestial Overseer’s recognition and support, it was absolutely impossible to restore the Federation and unite everyone as one. It was a vicious cycle with no clear way out. It was just like the Empire’s Terrestrial Guardian. The two matrices that served as artifacts of Supreme Benevolence could now only sit unused, sealed away in their respective arsenals, brought out only when necessary as symbols of authority and deterrence.

No one knew just how great a price had been paid for that brief appearance earlier. Unless the situation had become truly critical, why would the people in Central City ever commit so many resources to a remote place like this?

“Lately, people have been saying that Origin and White Deer are part of the eternal cycle of the world. Now that four hundred years of the Origin Era have passed, perhaps the White Deer’s age of wilderness is about to begin.” Lü Yingyue let out a long sigh. “Get some proper rest, Mr. Tong. Cliff City has more than enough problems waiting for us, and there’s still a mountain of trouble ahead.”

Changsheng was dead, but his death was only the beginning. Sometimes, a bloody lesson was enough to frighten off vermin and opportunists. At other times, the sight of blood only awakened the ambitions of others. Changsheng had died, but who could say that a hundred or a thousand more like him wouldn’t appear?

Through Changsheng’s actions, he had already proven that the established order could be overturned, and that the rules governing the mortal world were not unshakable. From this day forward, there was no telling how many schemers hiding in the shadows and waiting for their chance would make their move, or how many self-proclaimed champions of justice and orthodoxy would follow close behind and throw the world into further chaos.

An age of turmoil stretched ahead. The world was already piled high with precarious tinder, and there was no shortage of sparks. One day, when the flames finally spread, who knew how many columns of smoke would rise to blot out the sky? The Federation, the Empire, the Central Lands, the Thousand Islands... Everyone had long since grown impatient.

Before leaving, Lü Yingyue noticed Tong Shan’s gloomy expression. “Oh, right. One last piece of good news. They found Ji Jue.”

Tong Shan’s eyes widened in shock. He tried to sit up, but failed and fell back onto the bed. Ignoring how awkward he looked, he asked, “Where is he? Nothing happened to him, right? Is he all right? How bad is it?”

“He’s right next door, but his condition isn’t exactly good.” Lü Yingyue shook her head regretfully. “No one knows how long Jian Yuan tortured him in that workshop. He was lucky enough to make it out, but his spirit matter was completely depleted, his body was severely injured, and even his soul was on the verge of breaking up.

“They say that when the search-and-rescue team found him in the ruins, he had nearly bled to death. They managed to stabilize him after hours of treatment, but he still hasn’t woken up.” She reached out and gently pushed Tong Shan back down onto the bed, then gave his shoulder one last pat. “Once you’re feeling a little better, go see him.”

The door closed softly. In the silence, Tong Shan turned his head and stared blankly at the sunlight outside the window. After a long while, he smiled softly. A weight had finally lifted from his heart.

***

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack...

Throughout the journey, the steady click-clack of the train wheels on the tracks never stopped. Strangely enough, it never felt irritating. Once one grew accustomed to it, the steady rhythm was almost comforting. It was almost as though each beat carried them another step along the road, farther and farther into the distance.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, broken into tiny ripples by water stains and dust. Pure and crystal-clear, it gilded everything with a rim of gold. The whole world was wrapped in a warm, nostalgic haze, and bathed in a soft, amber-like light that felt almost eternal.

Nothing had changed.

She rested her chin in her hands and asked with a bright smile, “And then? And then? And then? What happened after that?”

Ji Jue came back to his senses. “After that? That’s when things got really impressive! I stepped forward right away, pointed straight at that old bastard’s nose, and tore into him. I told him, ‘You shameless old bastard! In the name of Ember and Origin, I’m getting rid of a menace like you today!’

“Then that guy Jian Yuan got so scared he dropped to the floor and started crying. He kowtowed and begged for mercy, babbling something about having ‘wandered half his life without finding a worthy lord,’ and said he wanted to kowtow and take me as his adoptive father. Shameless bastard. I kicked him aside on the spot. Too bad he ran so fast, or I would’ve chopped his damn head off. And as for the Heretic Cult and the Great Abomination? Nothing but a bunch of pushovers. A couple of kicks and they all scattered. I barely even had to try!”

“That’s amazing.” She applauded enthusiastically, her face brimming with delight. No matter how absurd or outrageous the things coming out of Ji Jue’s mouth were, she believed him without hesitation as she gently stroked his hair. “You really worked so hard.”

“It was nothing. Hardly worth calling hard work.” Ji Jue smiled. “Besides, I had plenty of people helping me.”

“You made a lot of good friends.”

“Mm.”

“Although there seem to be quite a few pretty girls among them...”

“There are plenty of men, too.”

“Maybe make a few less guy friends, mm?”

“Mom...”

She laughed again as she wrapped her arms around him. Her long hair flowed like water beneath the sunlight, catching the light with a brilliant sheen. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

A long time passed before the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the rails abruptly came to a stop. The distant city was drawing closer. Outside the window, the wilderness that had stretched across the horizon gradually gave way to houses, while tall buildings rose in clusters farther ahead.

An announcement sounded over the speakers. “Now arriving at the final stop, Cliff City. Passengers disembarking here, please prepare to leave the train...”

“Make sure you dress warmly enough.”

“Mm.”

“Take good care of yourself. Don’t get yourself all battered and bruised again.”

“Mm.”

“Study hard. Though you’re already doing well enough at that, so remember to give yourself a break sometimes too.”

“Okay.”

“And find yourself a girlfriend soon?” She leaned closer affectionately and rubbed her cheek against his. “If you have someone by your side, you won’t feel so lonely. No matter how hard things get, you won’t have to be afraid.”

“Mm.” Ji Jue lowered his head. He ignored the platform gradually coming into view, as well as the departure bell that rang again and again. After a long while, he finally gathered his courage and looked up at her.

She was looking at him too, as though she had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Her eyes were filled with hope and encouragement.

Ji Jue said, “Mom, I have to go.”

“I know.” She raised a hand and caressed his cheek, her fingertips gently tracing every scar, lingering over the features that had gradually changed with time. Her touch was filled with both lingering affection and quiet acceptance. “Have you decided where you’re going?”

“Not yet.” Ji Jue hesitated. “Do you think... I can still keep going?”

“Of course.” She nodded firmly, without a moment’s hesitation. “That’s what a journey is like, isn’t it? Everyone gets tired sometimes. If you can’t figure things out or don’t know which way to go, then sit down and get some proper rest.”

She reached out and embraced him lightly for the last time. “And when you’re ready, set out again. Find the courage to keep moving forward. You don’t need to worry, and you don’t need to be afraid.”

Ji Jue closed his eyes and held her tightly. Eventually, she let go and took a step back, still smiling at him.

Ji Jue stiffened, then reached out to touch her. She remained where she was and took his hand in hers, ever so gently. “It’s time to go, Ji Jue. Don’t miss the train that’s waiting for you.”

From somewhere in the distance came the sound of a train whistle. Ji Jue stood at the doorway and looked back.

Inside the carriage, she was waving to him, watching him with the same hopeful gaze as always. For one fleeting moment, he could no longer hold himself back. He wanted to turn around and run to her, to hold her tightly and tell her that it was fine if he never left, that he could stay here with her forever.

She was still looking at him. Slowly, she shook her head with a solemn and firm look. Only then did Ji Jue finally take his first step forward. Her laughter followed him, full of warmth and encouragement.

Outside the carriage, sunlight came rushing toward him like a waterfall and swallowed everything.

Ji Jue opened his eyes.